


Detention

by LunaLovePotter



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaLovePotter/pseuds/LunaLovePotter
Summary: Harry and Ginny engage in a bit of sexual role-playing.





	1. Detention

Title: Detention  
Author: lunalovepotter  
Pairing: H/G  
Rating: Explicit   
Part: 1/5  
Word Count: 3474  
Notes: Inspired by the erotic_elves Porn Challenge. Thanks to my incomparable beta, the_vixxmeister!

Ginny Weasley walked into the room, schoolbooks hugged to her chest, and her heart beating rapidly. She was nervous; she'd been thinking about this meeting all day long, and she had no idea what to expect. She'd gone over her appearance at least four times before she finally felt she looked presentable; her hair was washed and perfectly combed, clipped to the sides with conservative barrettes. Her uniform was clean, tie perfectly straight. She wore polished black loafers, and her white stockings were pulled up to her knees, leaving six inches between the hem of her skirt and the top of her stockings. Her robe was ironed, Gryffindor crest gleaming on her chest, and was buttoned all the way up so that only her shirt collar and the knot in her tie was visible. Her wand was tucked away in the inside pocket. 

She felt hot despite the cool, dry air in the room; perspiration beaded around her hairline, and her palms were clammy. She hugged the books tighter to her chest, smashing them against her breasts. She heard the door close behind her, and she lingered there for a few seconds, looking around. No one else appeared to be in the room with her. It was quickly growing dark; the last fading streaks of evening sunlight showed through the partially drawn blinds. The only sound was the wind rustling the trees outside, and an occasional faraway owl hooting. 

"Hello?" she said. Her voice seemed small and insignificant. Her eyes darted around, her body alert to the slightest movement. Her throat went dry, and her tongue seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth. Where was he? He had said seven o'clock…did she have the wrong night? 

"You're late." The voice came from a darkened corner. 

"I'm sorry, I had trouble getting away from—" 

"I don't want to hear excuses. I'm going to have to add an additional thirty minutes to your detention." 

Ginny inclined her head forward, and lowered her eyes. "I understand." 

A dark-haired figure emerged from the shadowy corner, cloaked entirely in black. He was average height, broad-shouldered, and he held a wand in his right hand. The only flash of color came from his brilliant emerald green eyes, which were now slowly looking her over from head to toe, and back again. He moved his head, and the fading sunlight reflected off the silver frames of his spectacles; she blinked at the sudden flash. 

"Set your books down on the floor. You won't be needing them tonight." 

She obeyed. Her hands were trembling as she let go of her books. Now she felt completely vulnerable, and she didn't know what to do with her hands. First she clasped them at her front, then let them fall to her sides. She wanted to look right at him, but was afraid. So she focused on the red and gold crest on his robe that was identical to her own. She wondered if she should have worn more perfume; she was perspiring so much now, under her arms, and under her breasts. She didn't want to give off an unpleasant smell. 

"Come to the front of the room, Miss Weasley. Let me get a closer look at your uniform."   
Obediently she made her way to where he stood, and positioned herself a few feet away, directly in his line of vision. She bit her lower lip tentatively, waiting, and watching. He came closer, stepping out of the shadows, wand extended. He placed it on her left shoulder, then proceeded to run it down the side of her body, following every curve. Then he did the same thing on her right side. His face was expressionless, his jaw tightly set in concentration. 

"Open your robe please, Miss Weasley." 

Ginny unfastened the clasps of her robe. She didn't know if he wanted her to take it all the way off, so she simply let it fall open at her sides. Again, his eyes looked her over from head to toe, this time lingering on her breasts, and again at the flash of bare skin between her skirt and her stocking. She was growing impatient, but dared not show any signs of it. 

"Please remove your wand, Ginevra, and give it to me." 

Her spine tingled when he said her full given name. She reached into the folds of her robe and removed the wand, which she held out to him on her open palm. He took it, and his fingers brushed against hers. She shivered, and ran her tongue along her lower lip. She watched as he set the wand on the table next to him. 

"Very good. You have done well so far. Now, please remove your robe and put it on the table with your wand, along with your stockings and shoes."

"Th-thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She thought she saw the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, but it was gone so quickly that she couldn't be sure. He watched her with almost frightening intensity as she slipped off her robe, folded it into quarters, and placed it on the desk. Then she removed each of her loafers and bent to peel off the stockings. The fine hairs on her legs stood up when exposed to the air. She folded her stockings together and placed them in the cavity of her left shoe. Then she put her shoes on the table next to her robe, and stepped back. The floor felt cold and hard beneath her feet.

"Did you wash your hair with the strawberry scented shampoo, as I requested?" he asked.

"Yes." 

"Please remove your hair clips and put them on the table." 

She did so, her fingers shaking as she fumbled with the clasps that she'd fastened and unfastened at least a thousand times before. Long, soft strands of red hair fell along her cheeks and framed her face. Clutching the barrettes in her hand, she placed them on the table and put them in the cavity of her right shoe. 

"You have beautiful hair, Ginevra." His voice was low, and soothing. It felt like warm butter was being poured over her skin. He stepped closer to her, right hand extended. Then his hand was in her hair, slowly combing through it and letting it sift between his fingers. She fought the urge to incline her cheek into his hand as he stroked her hair. His touch was slow and easy. He took a lock of her hair between his fingers, then leaned forward and touched it to his nose. 

"Strawberry," he said. Then she saw him smile. But she didn't smile back, because she knew he didn't want her to. Then he stepped back. "Now, please remove your sweater, and your tie." 

Gods, this was excruciating. She bit her tongue to keep herself from sighing impatiently as she peeled the sweater off, and lifted it over her head. She dropped it on the table, then began to work on loosening the knot in her tie. She'd spent a good fifteen minutes making sure the tie was perfectly aligned, with no folds; it almost felt wrong to undo that hard work. But she did, and she let the tie fall onto the pile on the table.

Her nipples were hard beneath her crisp white oxford, and there was a pulsing sensation steadily increasing between her legs. Her bra was unbearably tight; she felt the elastic bearing into her skin, and she was sure it would leave a mark. Either it had shrunk in the wash, or somehow her breasts had grown bigger. 

He paused for a long moment, taking her in. She felt as though she would suffocate with anticipation. "Now, I would like you to take off your shirt, and your underwear. Please do not remove your bra, or your skirt." 

A soft groan of disappointment left her lips when she learned she would be keeping the most confining garment on. If he heard her, he didn't let on. Most likely he knew how much she hated the bra, and he wanted to prolong her discomfort. He liked to watch her squirm; he wanted to test her, to see how far she would go. Well she was determined to wait him out. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

She shimmied out of her white cotton knickers, let them fall to her ankles, then she stepped out of them and kicked them over toward the table. With a flick of his wand, he levitated them up onto the table, with the rest of her clothes. There was something vaguely erotic about the sight of her most intimate clothing floating in the air at his command. She was very wet between her legs now; at any moment, her juices would begin to leak down the inside of her thighs. 

Once she had removed her shirt and deposited it on the table, she stepped back and stood before him obediently, shoulders straight, and her chest thrown forward. Her legs were together, ankles touching, and her hands at her sides. She waited. 

For what seemed like forever, he said nothing. Then, finally, he spoke. 

"Candelabra illuminata." 

The room was suddenly awash with the glow of candles floating in clear glass bulbs, the flames casting eerie shadows on the walls. It reminded Ginny of the hallways at St. Mungo's. Then her eyes moved to his face, focusing specifically on the lightning bolt scar over his right eyebrow. He shifted his feet uncomfortably, as she'd known he would. She liked to play this game with him. 

"Turn around," he said. "Walk to the wall, and put your hands against it. Then spread your legs." 

She crossed the room. Her feet didn't seem to touch the floor. This was something new; he had never asked her to do this before. When she reached the wall, she placed her palms flat against it, opened her legs, and waited. 

"Miss Weasley." He stepped closer, and his voice became louder. Then, "Ginevra." 

"Yes." 

"Tell me you want it." 

She swallowed. Her throat was tight, and for a moment she forgot to breathe. Her hair fell near her mouth, but she didn't dare move. "I want it, Mr. Potter."

She heard the rustling of fabric as he removed his robes. He was right behind her. "What do you want, Ginevra?"

"I want to be fucked. I want to be fucked hard."

"Good. Because I am going to fuck you like you have never been before." 

She smiled, because she knew he couldn't see it. Somehow she knew he was smiling too. 

"Now, I want you to lift your skirt and bend forward." 

She was dripping down the inside of her thighs, so desperate was she to have him inside her. She bent farther forward, her breasts pushing against the confines of her bra. She lifted the hem of her skirt, and folded it up over her buttocks. She waited, feeling his gaze on her as if he were physically touching her with his hands. 

Then she felt something unfamiliar. Something was poking her between her legs, sliding up and down between her buttocks. It was thin, cold, and a little rough around the edges. Then it poked her, and she gasped. It was his wand. 

"Do you like the way that feels?" he asked. 

"Yes," she sighed, and closed her eyes. An unbidden groan escaped her lips. 

"Do you like being fucked from behind?"

"Yes." 

"I didn't hear you, Ginevra." 

"YES!" she screamed, and her voice reverberated off the walls. 

"Phalangus Lubricante." 

Then his fingers were inside her; probing, swirling, massaging her arse. She twisted and bucked her hips, arching her head back. God, it felt so good. He moved his fingers farther inside her; it hurt, so she gasped, and he pulled back just a little. His breath was on her neck, hot and anxious. 

"Does that hurt?" he whispered. 

She swallowed, barely able to nod her head. He touched his lips to her neck, and flicked her skin with his tongue. She emitted a low mewling sound, and his fingers slipped out of her. A cool, pleasant relief washed over her body, and she relaxed. His left hand held her waist, while his right hand traveled the length of her torso, running up over her breasts while he rested his body against hers. His erection was hard and urgent against the back of her bare thighs. She leaned into his touch, moaning, wanting him to release her from the binding garment, but she knew he wouldn't. He was enjoying this too much. And despite her discomfort, part of her was enjoying it, too. 

"Take it out," she groaned. "Please…" 

He pulled away the fabric of the bra from her right breast, pinching her erect nipple; she gasped with delight, and he pressed his hand fully against the soft flesh, kneading it between his fingers. 

"Like this?" he breathed, teasing her, riding his still-clothed erection against her buttocks. 

"Oh yes! Oh fuck, Harry—" she caught herself, half expecting him to reprimand her for calling him by his first name. Her body braced for the slap of his fingers, or the pinch of his teeth, but it didn't come. Perhaps he hadn't noticed, so enthralled was he with the pleasuring of her breast. His lips sucked her neck, then dipped down to her shoulder. He peeled away the strap of the bra, and it slipped down her arm. She wanted to wiggle her way out of it; her body virtually itched to be free of it, but she bit her lip and restrained herself. 

Then his right hand left her breast. With his left hand still gripping her waist, he moved his right hand to his own waist; she heard the familiar sound of a zipper being released, and the sound of the fabric of his trousers sliding down his legs. She smiled, feeling eager and excited. Without being asked, she took a half-step away from the wall and arched her hips back just a little more. Her right breast dangled free, while her left breast still strained against the fabric of her bra. He pushed the skirt firmly up over her waist, and with his right hand he coaxed her legs open farther. 

She held her breath, waiting. Then he said a soft incantation, and his right hand cupped her waist, pulling her against him. As she moved, she felt his hot, smooth cock sliding inside her vagina. His left hand slipped down to her groin, and held her there while he thrust himself in and out of her at a fast pace. Closing her eyes, she let the pleasure wash over her like warm butter; colors exploded behind her lids.

"Oh. My. God!" she screamed, and quickly moved her hand to her clit, and she worked it vigorously so they could come at the same time. The pressure built rapidly inside her like a cork, and seconds later it burst, and she screamed again, her voice intermingling with his loud, almost violent moan. His body gave one sharp convulsion as fell against her, his juices intermingling with hers as they spilled out of her and down her legs. He left hand fumbled with the bra; even though his fingers were weak, he managed to pull it off her breast. She laughed at the sensation, and thrilled at the touch of his fingers, gentle and sensitive as they massaged her mounds. 

"You are bloody amazing, Mr. Potter," she breathed. "I just love your class." 

He chuckled. "You're my favorite student, Miss Weasley." 

"Please, call me Ginevra." 

He kissed her neck, then turned her around, and she looked into his eyes. She could stare into them for days without tiring of them. It took him a few moments to focus on her, since he had long since removed his glasses. But then he smiled, and lightly peeled damp strands of hair off her cheek. "Ginevra," he said in a low, sensual voice. 

"I've never been quite sure how I felt about my name. But hearing you say it makes it sound like the most beautiful name in the world." 

So he said her name again as he opened the zipper of her skirt. And again as the skirt fell down her legs, and as he unfastened her bra, and as it fell off her body. "Since you're such a good student, I'm thinking I'll give you some extra credit work," he said, as his hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her face close to his. "Would you like that?"

"Mmmm, I'd like that very much." She nipped his lower lip with her teeth, and he nipped her right back. She giggled, and wrapped her legs around his waist. She arched her hips forward, pressing her hot, swollen cunt against his groin. She rubbed it against him, which elicited a low growl from somewhere deep in his throat. His cock stiffened, but he managed to carry her across the room to the table where her clothes sat in a pile; without looking, he banished them to the floor and backed himself onto the table with her still straddling him. 

"Now, what would you like me to do for you, Mr. Potter?" The wood felt smooth and cold against her knees; she gripped the sides of the table with her fingers, and leaned over him with her breasts dangling over his face, and her nipples just out of reach of his eager mouth. When he lifted his head to grab them, she pushed his head back down. 

"Tell me the ingredients of the Draught of Peace." He smirked, his hands traveling up the length of her body. 

"Mmm, well – there's syrup of hellebore…" she rose up off her knees and positioned herself above his erect penis. 

"Very good, and what else?" 

"Powdered moonstone, I believe." She smiled and lowered herself onto him, enjoying the expression on his face as he watched his cock slowly being swallowed up by her cunt. Then she ground her hips into him, riding him hard and slow. 

"Excellent. That moves you to the top…oh blimey…of the class." 

"Wow, so I guess it does help to shag your professor, then." She grinned at him through the curtain of her fiery hair. 

"So, you make it a habit of shagging your professors, Miss Weasley?"

"Only the fanciable ones." She winked. 

"You think I'm fanciable?"

"Oh god, yes. You're bloody hot! All the girls in school want to shag you. In fact," she leaned forward, lowering herself just enough so he could tickle her right nipple with his tongue, "I'd like to ask you something, if you don't mind." 

He grunted his assent, and took her breast in his mouth. 

"If you could bring one more girl into our detentions, who would it be?"

"You're serious?" He raised one eyebrow.

"Well, don't get too excited, now; it's only hypothetical. Oh, and if you say Fleur, I'll kill you," she said with a smirk, and dug her nails into the soft flesh of his shoulder as she came. 

He came right after her, his body giving a great shudder of ecstasy. "I had a dream once, in sixth year, that you and Parvati Patil were shagging, while I watched." His cheeks flushed a deep red. 

"That's a good choice, Parvati's very pretty. Would you like watching us together?"

"Mmmm." He closed his eyes, and a small, satisfied smile crossed his lips. She lay down on top of him, and her hands went right to his limp cock which then snapped back to life as she massaged it with her fingers, slowly working her way from the base to the shaft, and back again. 

"Tell me what you'd like us to do." 

"I'd like you to fuck her with your fingers, the way I fucked you." 

"Mmm, and what else?" Her fingers worked his cock vigorously now. He bucked against her, but she held him down. "What else, Harry."

"I'd want her to pour chocolate all over you, and lick it off, very slowly." 

"And I'd get extra credit points for that, too, right?"

"Hell yes. You'd get a thousand points. You'd never have to take another exam again." 

"I definitely like that idea." She smiled, opening her legs and easing him inside her still wet center. His cock rose into the mass of red curls between her legs and he thrust up into her. She gave a great gasp of pleasure and sat up, arching her back. He ran his hands over her breasts. 

"I have an assignment for you, Miss Weasley, for our next meeting." 

She thrust herself forward. "What's that?" 

"Bring liquified chocolate." 

"Yes sir, Mr. Potter." She laughed, and rifled her fingers through his hair. "And would you like me to bring Parvati, too?" 

"You're kidding now, right?"

Ginny smiled and winked, but said nothing.


	2. Self Control

Title: Self-Control  
Author: lunalovepotter  
Pairing: H/G. Includes mild femmeslash.  
Rating: NC-17  
Part: (2/?)  
Word Count: 2977  
Summary: Part 2 of "Detention" series. In another round of their role-playing game, "student" Ginny turns the tables on "teacher" Harry.   
Notes: Inspired by the erotic_elves Porn For All Challenge. Thanks to Vixx for giving me the balls (so to speak) to write smut. And thanks to everyone for reading it! Your comments are what keep me going. :D 

The rain delayed their arrival, but only by a few minutes. Still, Ginny Weasley was anxious as she adjusted the knapsack on her shoulder, then performed the drying spell on her robes and fixed her hair. Beside her, an attractive olive-skinned, dark haired woman did the same. Parvati Patil did not appear nervous, considering the unusual nature of the meeting. 

At Parvati's suggestion, they'd made a brief stop at the pub to have some firewhiskey. Ginny had been reluctant at first, knowing that the smell of alcohol on their breath would displease the teacher; but the drink had eased her nerves considerably, and Parvati had introduced her to a clever breath-freshening charm to conceal the smell.

"You're sure my breath smells all right?" Ginny asked. She leaned closer to Parvati, who smelled of something exotic, Ginny guessed it was a blend of flowers and spices, perhaps from India. She had been living abroad for the last two years, and had only just returned to England. 

"It's fine." Parvati smiled. Standing close to her, Ginny noticed that she had lovely thick eyelashes. "You really have beautiful hair, Ginny. I've always envied it." 

Ginny's heart fluttered, and her cheeks grew hot. She felt mildly uncomfortable, but in a good way. "Thanks," she said. "Well, we'd better go in, we're already late." 

"Wait." Parvati put her hand abruptly on Ginny's arm as she lifted her wand to perform the Alohomora charm. "I should tell you something first."

"What?" 

"The reason why I agreed to do this…"

"It's okay, you don't have to explain anything." 

"Actually, I kind of do. You see, I've…well, I've always had a bit of a crush on Harry—sorry, I mean Mr. Potter," she added. "It's nothing, really. It's harmless. But I wanted you to know. You can still back out of this if you want. I should have told you earlier, I'm sorry." 

Rather than being upset, Ginny found herself a little empowered by Parvati's revelation. She felt a sharp thrill of pleasure, mixed with something akin to territoriality. Parvati wanted him, but Ginny already had him. She smiled. "It's okay," she said. "But thanks for telling me. Now, are you ready?" 

With a slow incline of her head, Parvati assented. Then Ginny unlocked the door, and the two young women stepped tentatively into the room. Outside, the wind howled and rain lashed at the windows. For what seemed like an hour they stood just inside the doorway, waiting and watching. Parvati inched closer to Ginny; her fingers brushed against Ginny's hand. Her dark eyes darted around the room, searching every shadowy corner for a sign of movement. 

Ginny's chest constricted. They were now almost twenty minutes late; he would be unhappy with them. Now she wished that she hadn't agreed to stop at the pub first. She swallowed, and was about to speak when his voice came out at them from the farthest corner near the window. He sounded impatient. 

"I've been waiting for you. I told you seven o'clock, Miss Weasley. It's nearly seven-thirty." 

Beside her, Parvati started slightly. Ginny hoped he hadn't noticed. Excuses were on the tip of her tongue, but she held her mouth closed. They were beyond the point of using excuses now. So she simply nodded her head, and averted her gaze toward the floor. Taking her lead, Parvati did the same. 

"We'll decide on your punishment later. Did you bring what I asked?"

Ginny nodded, without looking up. "Yes," she said, in a low, timid voice. She could feel his critical eyes on her, burning into her skin through her robes, and the feeling made her tremble. 

A figure emerged from the corner, clad entirely in black except for emerald eyes that glinted behind thin silver frames. "Bring it here." 

Parvati took in her breath, and her eyes fixated on the dark figure. She looked enthralled, but thankfully she knew enough not to speak. Ginny stepped forward, and let the knapsack slip from her shoulder and onto the floor. While he watched, she knelt down and released the clasp, then lifted first one, then two crystal bottles filled with a thick, dark liquid. She set each of them on the floor, then got back to her feet, holding the knapsack.

"Very good," he said, and she felt the corners of her mouth twitch. "Please place the bottles on the table, and step back next to Miss Patil."

Ginny did so, and not knowing where she was expected to put the knapsack, she also placed it on the table next to the bottles. Then she stepped back, making sure she was perfectly aligned with Parvati, and exactly seven feet apart. Her shoulders were straight, head back, chest pushed forward. A quick sidelong glance at Parvati confirmed that she was doing the same. 

"Miss Patil, you understand the reasons why you were given detention?" 

"Yes." 

"You also understand that I will not tolerate disobedience."

"Yes." 

"Very good. Now, Miss Patil, please open your robe." 

Ginny bit her lip to stifle her impatience. Rather than asking them to disrobe simultaneously he was going to make her wait and watch, because he knew it would rattle her. But she refused to let on, so she kept her eyes forward, focused on the lightning-bolt scar above his right eyebrow. 

Meanwhile Ginny was acutely aware of Parvati's every movement, and every rustle of fabric as she slowly and methodically removed articles of her clothing at his command then placed them neatly and carefully on the table next to the bottles. Ginny was growing wet between her legs; she couldn't help it, just the thought of him watching Parvati undress made her unbearably hot. 

He'd promised that he wouldn't touch Parvati. Moreover, he'd insisted that he wouldn't want to, even if provided the opportunity to do so. Ginny was rarely allowed to make rules in this game; however on this she had insisted. Of course he would agree to just about anything when they were fucking, but it gave her reassurance knowing that she had his word. Once he gave his word he never went back on it. She hated that she needed to be put at ease; she was usually so confident and self-assured. But it was different with him. If only her brothers could see her now; she would never live it down. 

Besides, he's coming home with me, she thought, and a small smile played across her lips. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Parvati lift her hands to unclasp her gemstone-studded silver barrettes. Waves of long, thick black hair cascaded over her shoulders and across her cheek. The faintest scent of honey shampoo met Ginny's nostrils. Her nipples went hard. She was desperate to get out of her clothes. The knot of her tie seemed to choke her; the sweater bound her torso like a corset.

"Now please remove your sweater, and your tie." 

Parvati's long, slender fingers, nails painted a deep burgundy, worked the knot of her tie almost effortlessly. She then pulled the tie off her neck and let it fall through her fingers onto the floor. Ginny looked at him, just in time to catch the barely discernible brush of his hand against his bulging crotch. He made it look as though he was adjusting his robe, but she knew better. 

Parvati proceeded to pull her sweater over her head. Then she folded the sweater, picked up the tie, and carried both items to the table where she set them down next to her shoes and stockings. Ginny fought to keep her hands at her sides, wanting desperately to touch the throbbing between her legs. To distract herself, she imagined Parvati watching her suck him off. It made her smile. 

"I would like you to take off your shirt, and your knickers. Please do not remove your bra, or your skirt." He was fighting hard not to succumb to the rising need between his legs. Ginny saw the forced concentration in his face, and the determined set of his jaw as he watched Parvati slowly unfasten the buttons on her white oxford, revealing patches of flawless caramel-toned skin. Then, just for a second, his eyes flickered over to her. 

Without thinking, she pressed her fingers between her legs, applying just a hint of pressure to her clit through her skirt. It felt so good. Then her heart pounded; she'd moved without being told, and he didn't like that. But he did nothing. There was just the faintest hint of a smile tugging the corners of his mouth before he returned his attention to Parvati.

Then her hand was under her skirt, against her silk knickers, where her skin was hot and throbbing. She could feel the wetness beneath the fabric. She pressed into her clit repeatedly; her body convulsed with pleasure. Punishment was coming, she was sure of it; but she didn't care. Small moans escaped her throat as she threw her head back and arched her hips forward. 

Instead she felt fingers that were not her own, touching her legs, running along the edge of her knickers. Then she felt the silk sliding down to her ankles and the unmistakable flick of a tongue against her clit. She moaned, her breasts straining against her sweater. Then the tongue went deeper, probing, circling, tickling her. Hands held her inner thighs firmly, pulling her forward as nails scratched her skin. 

Fuck. It was Parvati. Ginny was caught off guard. She hadn't heard him say anything, no indication that Parvati had been told to do this. Judging by his silence, he wasn't objecting. God, it felt amazing. 

"Candelabra Illuminati." 

The effect of the floating candles against the black stormy sky and the pouring rain against the windows was orgasmic. Eerie shadows flickered on the walls, accompanied by the howling wind and her own groans of pleasure. Ginny opened her eyes and looked down, placing her hands on top of the shiny black head that was pumping in and out of her crotch. Parvati's hair was thick and soft, and the smell of honey was almost overwhelming now that she was so close. She was on her knees, in her bra and skirt; Ginny could hear soft, almost inaudible grunts as she fucked her with her tongue. Acutely aware of his eyes on them, she maneuvered carefully to her knees; Parvati looked up, and their eyes locked. 

"You like that?" she whispered, dark eyes glinting. She smiled seductively. 

"Only because he does," Ginny replied quietly, raking her hands through Parvati's hair. Her hands slipped down her back, and her fingers unfastened the hooks of Parvati's bra. Just as it fell away to reveal the soft brown mounds of her breasts, Ginny suddenly felt her own clothes being pulled from her body. 

He was standing about ten feet away, robes open, pants unzipped. His right hand was raised, his wand pointing at them. With an easy flick of his wrist, her clothes landed on the table in a pile on top of Parvati's. All the hairs on Ginny's body stood up as the air hit her. 

"Wow, you really are a redhead," Parvati said softly, while stroking Ginny between her legs. 

"You like redheads?" Ginny whispered. 

"Only because he does." 

Hearing the other witch say this ignited something in Ginny. All she could think about as she gazed hard into Parvati's eyes was how much she wanted to hurt her. She wanted Parvati to know she couldn't have what Ginny had, and that she never would. It was a strange feeling, liking someone and yet hating her all at the same time.

Accio chocolate! 

The bottle was in her hand before she'd even had time to realize that she'd done it with her mind. "Take off your skirt, and lie down on your back," she said to Parvati. With a knowing smile Parvati did it, and stretched her slender, lithe body to its full length with her breasts flattening against her chest. The dark hair between her legs was neatly shaved in a perfect triangular shape. Ginny felt a thrill of power that was positively intoxicating. Now she understood why he liked to play these games so much.

Behind them, he groaned from somewhere deep in his throat. It sounded almost inhuman. 

"Do you like chocolate?" Ginny said, uncorking the bottle. Parvati said nothing, but traced the tip of her tongue tantalizingly around her mouth. So Ginny tipped the bottle forward and watched as the thick brown liquid poured out and began to spread across the other witch's body. Parvati groaned and her body gave a great shudder, then her eyes rolled back. Ginny moved the bottle up and down, and side to side until there was more chocolate visible than skin below Parvati's neck. 

How far would he let her go before he intervened? Ginny wondered this as she set the bottle down and got on her hands and knees over Parvati's prone form. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him openly grabbing his crotch, squeezing it. He hadn't taken it out yet, but he was close. His robes were on the floor, along with his wand. Ginny waited, arms propped up on either side of Parvati, until he was looking right at her. Then she leaned forward and touched her tongue to Parvati's left breast; she swirled it in circles around her nipple. 

"Oh. My. God!" Parvati shrieked in ecstasy, her voice bouncing off the walls. Ginny continued on to her right breast, tickling it with her tongue before she bent to touch her lips to the soft flesh, tasting chocolate. Beneath her, Parvati quivered, emitting little mewling sounds. Her nails scratched the floor as she futiley sought something to grab onto. Emboldened, Ginny continued to trace a path down her body, licking up the chocolate. She paused every few moments to swallow, and to cast a look in his direction. By now his pants were around his ankles, and his penis was sticking straight out. He was stroking it furiously, yet his eyes were still riveted on the scene unfolding before him. 

"Keep going!" he commanded, as his lower body jerked forward. He looked as if he were one step away from complete madness. His eyes flashed, catching the candlelight; his cheeks were flushed deep red, and his jet black hair stuck out in all directions. 

Ginny parted Parvati's legs, and crouched down between them. She gazed at the dark hair, matted with chocolate, and at the small opening down the center of it. She couldn't quite believe what she was about to do. Pushing her own hair out of the way, she then touched the mess of chocolate with her fingers; just to see what it felt like. It was soft, warm, and moist as the chocolate intermingled with Parvati's own juices. Then, surreptitiously Ginny slipped two fingers of her right hand between the folds, and teased the clit. Parvati's hips contracted, and she let out a low grunt. She grabbed at Ginny blindly, trying to pull her down. She caught her fingers in long strands of red hair, which made Ginny cry out. 

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath, as she pried the other witch's hands out of her hair and set them down firmly on the floor. Then, making sure Parvati was still, she resumed what she'd been doing, only now she stuck her fingers all the way inside, swirling them around. 

Parvati watched her with a glassy-eyed expression but did nothing more than moan helplessly. "Do you like that?" Ginny whispered, leaning down so close that her breasts brushed against Parvati's stomach. Parvati didn't speak, she only nodded and smiled. 

Behind them and somewhere off to the side, he let out a choked gasp, followed by an extended groan. Ginny's entire body tingled, but she was so focused that she didn't look up. 

"Do you want more?" Ginny asked soothingly.

Parvati nodded again, and reached up to touch Ginny's breasts. Her fingers were soft against the mounds of flesh; she was gentle, like a mother would stroke her child. Ginny liked the way it felt. "You're so beautiful Ginny," she said. "No wonder he likes to fuck you." 

"You bet your arse he likes to fuck me." And only me. Ginny pulled her fingers out of Parvati and lay flush on top of her, grinding her hips hard and pressing against her with her swollen cunt, all the while working her clit so hard she thought she might explode. She took a perverse pleasure in the idea that the hard floor had to be hurting the other witch's back and hips; although when Parvati let out a squeal of pain, Ginny let up. 

"Do you want to watch him fuck me, Parvati?" she said, gazing down at the other witch through a curtain of red hair. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him moving closer to them. From the sound of his labored breathing, he was very close. She was very close too, and she wanted him inside her now, with a desire that surpassed all comprehension. Parvati was panting, her fingers desperately working her clit to finish what Ginny had started. Between gasps she moaned her assent. 

He took her from behind, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her up as he pushed himself inside her. Not five seconds later he came, and she followed, all the while watching Parvati beneath them bringing herself to climax. 

"Very good, Miss Weasley," he breathed, flicking the inside of her ear with his tongue. His massive cock was still inside her, tickling her. His hands traveled up her stomach to her breasts. Beneath them, Parvati groaned and then climaxed, spilling her chocolate-laced come all over the floor.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Ginny murmured, as a satisfied smile crossed her lips.


	3. Potions Mistress

Title: Potions Mistress  
Author: lunalovepotter  
Pairing: H/G  
Rating: NC-17  
Part: (3/?)  
Word Count: 2658  
Summary: This time, Ginny's in control. Told from Harry's POV.  
Notes: Thanks Vixx! Inspired by the erotic_elves Porn For All Challenge.

She'd taken his wand when he first came in, Accio'd it right out of his pocket before he'd even realized she was there. 

"Have a seat, Potter," she said, her voice smooth as silk. His eyes darted toward a far corner, following the sound of her voice. He sank into a chair that had suddenly appeared right behind him; it was a straightback chair, regulation for all students. But before he could even let out a breath, his arms were whipped behind his back, wrists crossed. Then his ankles were pressed against the legs of the chair. 

He tested the bindings that now held him; silk scarves tied securely around his wrists and ankles, with a Holding Charm for good measure to ensure he couldn't loosen the knots. The scarves weren't too tight, so as not to cut off his circulation, but otherwise didn't allow him much freedom of movement. 

"Now, I've called you here because I would like to discuss the matter of your barely-passing grade on the last exam. Did you, or did you not, study for the required two hours per night for the last week before the exam?" 

He cleared his throat, and lowered his eyes. "No. I'm sorry, I didn't." 

"I'm disappointed in you, Potter. You are not working up to your true potential." 

"Yes, Professor." He thought of offering up an excuse, but he knew that he would be punished regardless of what he said. So he kept quiet. 

"Until you bring your grades up to a satisfactory level, I'm going to require you to come here for extra lessons every evening at this time." She emerged a little further from the shadows. He could see the gleam of her red hair, and the curve of her jaw. Something red glittered around her neck. Behind her were shelves of jars containing a myriad of specimens encased in liquid. The liquid gave off an eerie greenish-yellow glow in the candlelight. A blackboard just behind her and off to the right had various Potions ingredients written on it that he couldn't quite decipher from where he was sitting, although he thought he saw the word Amortentia. 

"Yes, Professor." 

"You will never pass your O.W.L.S. otherwise. No student without an 'Outstanding' in these exams will continue in my class. You want to continue in my class, don't you, Potter?"

"Yes, I do. Professor," he added quickly. She'd done a fantastic job with the room; it gave him shivers down his spine. But it also made him vaguely uncomfortable. He wondered why she'd chosen this particular room – perhaps because she knew how it would make him feel; vulnerable, uncertain, anxious. Angry.

She stepped out of the shadowy corner, and he took in his breath. She seemed to tower over him, a vision all in black. The robe was sheer, allowing him a perfect view of what she wore underneath, and it wasn't much. There was a lace brassiere that covered so little of her breasts that she might as well not have worn it at all; high-cut lace knickers; a garter belt and sheer black stockings. On her feet were high-heeled boots that went to the middle of her shins. She wore a short gold chain from which dangled a ruby pendant that fit squarely in the hollow of her neck. He let his eyes focus on the pendant, determined not to let her catch him staring at her breasts. 

So beautiful. So red. 

"Is something interesting to you, Mr. Potter?" 

His neck snapped up. "No, professor." He was sure that the hardness protruding from between his legs told her otherwise. 

"Good." She moved closer, and he caught a whiff of flowery perfume. "Now, I would like you to tell me what are the distinctive characteristics of Amortentia." 

"Well…there's the mother-of-pearl sheen…" He fought to keep his eyes forward, focused on a point just above and behind her left shoulder. It was amazing that he could recall these details, which had been so hard for him to retain as a sixth-year Potions student. Yet the answer rolled easily off his tongue, "…and the steam rises in distinct spiral patterns." 

"Excellent." She lifted her right arm, her wand extended toward him. Then she uttered the words, "Fabricus Eradicatus," and with a skilled flick of her wrist his robes and shirt were banished from his body while the tie remained around his neck undisturbed. At the same moment, her own robes came loose and fell away and she stood before him in all her glory. Her shoulders straightened, breasts thrown forward. He could see the color of her nipple just above the hem of the bra. 

The pain from his growing erection tore into his groin, and made it exceedingly difficult for him to focus. He clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth against the discomfort. She wanted him to show weakness, and he wouldn't do it. 

"Now, tell me the effects of Amortentia." 

"Amortentia causes the drinker to develop an extreme infatuation or obsession with the target." He said the words quickly, almost robotically. "The duration of these effects vary due to the weight of the person drinking it, and the attractiveness…" he swallowed, "…of the person with whom the potion is supposed to make the drinker obsessed." 

She rewarded him with a faint smile. Then she lifted her left hand to her breast, tweaking the nipple through the black lace. The nipple was just about the only portion of her breast that was covered. Her torso gave a barely noticeable twitch that any other person might not have seen; but he was attuned to her body, he knew what she liked.

He sucked in his breath. He didn't know how much longer he could stand this; he was about to come all over the inside of his trousers. 

"Potter." 

"Y-Yes, professor." 

"Tell me what is in your Amortentia." 

"Wood…"

She took a step closer. 

"Treacle tart..." 

Then she was right in front of him, and his eyes were just about level with her crotch, making it impossible for him to look anywhere else. He could see wisps of red hair peeking through the lace. He was dying now; he would have paid any amount of money for her to release him from his trousers. 

"And?" she said, with a twinge of impatience. Her left hand moved behind her back. 

He licked his lips. "Perfume," he said.

"Do you find me attractive, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, professor." 

With a flick of her wrist, the brassiere came away, and fell to the floor. She leaned forward, her perfectly-sized breasts inches from his mouth. It killed him not to be able to reach them, to take one of her succulent mounds between his lips. Her hair formed a curtain on either side of her face; it felt soft as it brushed against his shoulders. He quivered. 

He wanted to touch her so badly. He wanted to touch her more than he'd wanted anything in his entire life. At least it felt that way as he gazed into the space between her breasts, so creamy white, and curved so perfectly. The red pendant dangled tantalizingly above them. He licked his lips. 

"Do you want to fuck me, Potter?" She traced one finger slowly down from his forehead to his chin, pausing for an extra second on his lips. But before he could snatch it in his mouth she moved it away, and smiled coyly.

He tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. So he simply nodded. 

"Say it, Potter. Say you want to fuck me."

"I—I want to fuck you, professor." 

She backed away, tossing her hair back, and his heart leapt into his throat. "That's a shame," she said, and clucked her tongue. "Because you really haven't earned it." 

Bloody hell. He could feel his cock swollen to bursting, pressing against the zipper of his trousers. It was pointless; he would come in his pants, and be humiliated in front of her. He closed his eyes, squeezing them against the rising pain in his abdomen, and waited for the inevitable explosion. 

Then, all of a sudden, there was sweet, blissful release as his zipper gave way and his cock burst free. He looked up at her, and saw that she had her wand pointed right at his crotch. She winked, and he felt like the luckiest bloke on the planet. But then came the realization that he couldn't relieve himself, he couldn't ease the pressure. It was pure torture. 

"You're lucky I like you," she said, and proceeded to unfasten her stockings from the garter belt and took it off. Then she shimmied out of the lace knickers, which slipped to the floor. She stepped out of them, then she stood before him with her legs spread, wearing nothing but leather boots and the ruby pendant. The red hair between her legs glistened, and he emitted a groan of longing. His cock responded, twitching, as if trying to find her center, and it felt like someone had torn a jagged line across his abdomen with a knife.

She dropped her hand between her legs, and with one finger, pressed against her clit. "You see how wet you make me, Potter?" she purred. 

The pain was too much. He couldn't take his eyes off her, yet he couldn't speak. Tears were rolling out of his eyes. She moved closer to him again, only now she didn't stop; instead, she opened her legs, straddling him, her vagina mere centimeters from the tip of his cock. 

"FUUUUUCK!" He finally bellowed in frustration. He didn't care any more, he just wanted the pain to go away… 

Then she was on him, swallowing his cock inside her, clenching him while she ground her hips forcefully against his balls. It was the most fantastic sensation he'd ever experienced. She rode him so hard that the chair nearly tipped over, but somehow righted itself again. She let out small gasps that gradually crescendoed to yelps the closer she came to climax. When he released himself inside her, she came with him, spilling both their juices down her thighs. 

"I think I'm going to like this extra tutoring," he said, and fell back limply against the chair with her body flush against his, her breasts pressed between them. She nipped his chest with her teeth and dug her nails so far into his shoulders that he winced. He could feel her still-wet cunt rubbing against him.

"You're not supposed to like it, Potter." 

Just like that, she was standing over him again. The smell of sex was heavy in the air, and he could see the sweat beading on her chest and around her hairline. Her cunt was dripping. 

"Tell me the ingredients in a Swelling Solution." 

As she said this, she ran one finger along the length of his flaccid cock which, despite his physical exhaustion, twitched hopefully. 

"Puffer-fish eyes," he said, his eyes riveted on her breasts. He imagined cupping them in his hands, pinching her bright pink nipples until she moaned. He twisted his wrists against the silk scarves. "Take off the bindings." 

Even though she barely reacted, he saw the momentary surprise in her eyes. "Why should I do that?" she said. 

"Because you like it when I touch your breasts, Professor." 

The sting of her hand against his upper arm startled him, burning his skin. "Strengthening Solution," she demanded. 

"Salamander blood."

She slapped his other arm. "Polyjuice Potion!" 

"Lacewing flies. Leeches. Powdered Bicorn horn. Knotgrass. Fluxweed, picked at full moon. Shredded Boomslang skin, and a piece of who you want to turn into." 

"You have been studying, then." She smiled. 

"Of course I have. I did poorly on purpose, so I could see you." He was hard as a rock again. 

Her hand drifted between her legs, and she slipped one finger between her folds. "I love it when my students know the material, it makes me so hot." 

"Do you make it a habit of fucking all your students, Professor?" he quipped. It was a reckless comment to make, and he expected the punishment to come quickly. But he was surprised when she stepped closer, so near to him that he could see the individual hairs between her legs. He could smell the essence of her; it was intoxicating. 

God he wanted to touch her. He wanted to grab her by the waist with both hands and devour her, and make her moan as he brought her right to the edge, then forced her down onto his own ready cock. 

"Only the fanciable ones," she said. When he looked at her, her expression betrayed nothing. His heart pounded in his chest. His cock throbbed. 

"So, I'm fanciable, then?"

"You're more than just fanciable." She extended her index finger, which she placed under his chin and tilted his head up to look into her dark brown eyes. "You are straight-up fuckable." Then she arched her hips, thrusting her cunt right into his face. He inhaled her scent, and felt his cock go rigid. 

Then quite suddenly, his hands and feet were free; he waved away the scarves then grabbed her by the arse. With the eagerness of a man who hadn't eaten in days, he thrust his tongue into her folds, licking her madly, tasting every inch of her, as his fingers kneaded the soft flesh of her buttocks. God, she tasted delicious. He flicked the tip of his tongue against her swollen clit. She moaned, and he felt her whole body vibrate. 

"Oh fuck, Gin, I could eat you alive…" he didn't even realize he'd said her name. But either she hadn't noticed, or she didn't care because her only response was to dig her fingers into his hair, and press his head firmly against her crotch. 

"Shut up, and keep going," she commanded, although her voice was losing some of its rigid authority. 

"Yes, Professor." 

She was so close; he could tell from her short, rapid breaths, and from the way her fingers kneaded his skull. She let out a plaintive squeal. In one swift movement he pulled his head back and pushed her down by the waist. He watched with an overpowering sense of arousal as her cunt swallowed his throbbing cock. She clenched him and rode him hard, her hands now gripping his shoulders. She thrust her upper body forward. Her breasts were right in his face; those perfect mounds of flesh with the bright pink nipples that he had been longing to hold all night. So he snapped his head forward and grabbed the nearest one with his teeth. She cried out, and he released her. 

"Don't stop, Potter! Do you want to pass my class, or not?!" 

He grinned, sliding his hands up the curve of her waist, and across her stomach to her breasts. He could spend all night just touching them, nuzzling them, and tasting them with his tongue. She eased closer to him, and he squeezed her nipples in his fingers as she continued to grind her hips into his.

"Fuck, that's fantastic!" she threw her head back, and waves of red hair framed her face, falling into her open mouth.

"So does this mean I pass?"

"Oh god, yes." 

"And what about the extra lessons?" He rode her harder, and faster. She dropped a hand to her clit and began to work it furiously, biting her lower lip in an impossibly sexy manner. They came together, their juices spilling out of her and onto his open trousers. 

She bent forward and looked at him through her hair. "Oh, I think we'll still have the extra lessons," she said with a wicked smile. 

"Thank god, because I really need them." 

"Mmm." She bent to take his face in her hands, and drew him into a long, deep kiss that shot fire through his loins all over again. "I know you do."


	4. Making the Grade

Title: Making the Grade  
Author: lunalovepotter  
Pairing: H/G  
Rating: NC-17  
Part: (4/?)  
Word Count: 1800  
Summary: Part 4 of the Detention series. Harry is in for a surprise when he goes to his next detention.   
Notes: This is a special request fic for sillykiss22. Thanks to my beta, the_vixxmeister! :D

He was irritable as he walked into the room. He'd had an awful day, his body ached and he was hungry because he hadn't had time to eat lunch. He'd considered asking her to postpone, but knowing better, he'd decided against it. The door shut behind him and, he noticed with surprise, latched and chained itself. 

"Good, you're on time." She emerged from a previously unseen doorway, again clad in a sheer black cape with the red pendant glittering at her throat. Only this time she wore red underneath. His cock gave a telltale twitch at the sight of her. Far be it for him to choose food and sleep over their weekly sex games, but at the moment he'd have given half his fortune for a good plate of shepherd's pie and a warm shower. 

"Take off your clothes." 

He straightened, caught off guard by the bluntness of her statement. This was unusual; bypassing her elaborate game of teasing and taunting, making him watch her strut around nearly naked, before she undressed him. Then, as he shrugged the robe off his shoulders and peeled his feet out of his shoes, he noticed something else unusual. The room, while still resembling the Potions dungeon, now bore even more resemblance to a real dungeon. Torches lined the walls, and a pair of shackles was bolted to the wall where the shelves of specimens had stood the last time they met. The shelves were now on the right wall, the jars casting an eerie yellow-green glow in the firelight. 

She stood on a raised platform, much like a professor would when lecturing a large class; she strutted back and forth, watching him; the cape billowed out behind her as she changed directions. Despite his fatigue, and the low rumble of his stomach, he was growing interested. He began to strip off his clothes. Her critical gaze was like a wave of electricity; it made the hairs on his arms stand up – not to mention his cock. 

Once he was completely naked, he stood there not sure what to do. She didn’t say anything, rather just paced back and forth, her body moving fluidly. Time seemed to come to a halt as he watched her. Then finally she paused.

“Go over there.” She pointed in the direction of the shackles, with her wand. He walked across the room, feeling very conspicuous with his massive erection. His stomach rumbled rather conspicuously. He hoped she hadn’t noticed. 

He caught a whiff of perfume in the air, and then suddenly she was behind him. He could feel her proximity, the heat radiating off her body. The hem of her cloak brushed against the back of his leg. His cock twitched, and his throat went dry. 

“Turn around, Potter.” 

He did, and before he could get a look at her, a blindfold covered his eyes, and his arms were up against the wall, his wrists encased in the heavy metal rings. The stone wall was cold, and damp. It reminded him of those Occlumency lessons with Snape in his fifth year at Hogwarts. He felt the same tension in the air, the same sense of foreboding; he shivered. 

Then he heard the rustle of fabric; air brushed against his legs as something fell past them onto the floor. Then he heard more movement; it drove him mad not being able to see her. Something clattered to the floor, and a zipper was pulled down. “Fuck,” he muttered. 

“Do you want to see me, Potter?”

“Yes.” 

“Do you want to touch me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you want to FUCK me?”

“Yes.” 

She was rubbing against him; her hard nipples tickled his chest, her wetness teased his cock. She did it slowly, deliberately. Instinctively he moved forward to grab her, forgetting his bindings. A low, guttural groan escaped his throat. Damn those shackles. He wanted to bury his face in her breasts, probe her with his fingers, and make her scream. 

Then he felt something else, sliding over his cock, clenching him. Her breath was hot on his neck, her nails dug into his shoulders. “Uhhnnnmmm….” He groaned as she ground her hips against him, riding him hard; his back would be bruised from hitting the wall, but he didn’t care. He just wanted more. Her breasts were mashed against his chest; her mouth was sucking his neck. She was bleeding him dry.

Fuck. 

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” she gasped with every thrust, moving faster as she came closer to climax. Then finally, she screamed and her voice bounced off the walls and seemed to course through his entire body as her warm, sticky juices spilled out of her. Who needed food, he thought, he could have this instead. She tasted delicious; sweet, a little tart. Almost like his favorite dessert.

Then, surprisingly, the blindfold came off his face. He blinked, adjusting to the light. Without his glasses it was harder to focus, but he could make out the blurred edges of her naked form, the redness of her nipples, the gleam of her hair, and the fiery bush between her legs. While he watched, she dropped a hand between her legs. Never in his life had he wished more ardently for perfect vision. Imagining her fingers sliding into her hot center, touching the very essence of her drove him mad. She arched her hips forward, moving against her own hand; then she drew out her fingers, and lifted them up right in front of him. He could smell her. 

“You want some of this, do you?”

“Yes.” He leaned forward, straining against the shackles; if he just flicked his tongue, it would only take a second…but of course she pulled her hand away. The disappointment stung, as if she’d slapped him. But he managed to contain himself. He felt a strange calm wash over him. 

So he waited, watching her pace back and forth in front of him. His back was sore, and he’d lost almost all feeling in his arms and hands. His legs hurt. If it weren’t for the shackles, his knees would have given way a long time ago. 

“How would it make you feel to watch someone else fuck me, Potter? Would you like that?”

No. He wouldn’t give in. 

“As I recall, you liked watching me with Miss Patil, didn’t you?”

His throat went dry; his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Yet he didn’t speak. 

“Didn’t you, Potter?” she came closer, the smell of sex and perfume intermingling in the air. 

“Yes.” 

“So how would it make you feel if you saw me with another wizard? Would you like it?”

“No.”

The faintest smile crossed her lips. “What would you do?”

“I’d bloody kill him.” Despite himself, the idea of violence was turning him on. It was disturbing; but he couldn’t help it. 

“What would give you the right to do that, Potter? Am I your possession, do I belong to you?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, you do. No one else can fuck you but me.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes.” 

The shackles came off his wrists, and his arms fell to his sides like dead weight. His knees crumpled, and he landed on the floor hard, scraping the balls of his palm. His stomach heaved as he used what little strength he had to lift himself up to look at her. She was standing with her legs apart, hands on her hips, looking down at him like she would an insect she wanted to step on. Her hair hung long around her face. Through he haze of his foggy vision, his eyes focused on her breasts, nipples standing at attention. 

She had perfect breasts. Not too big, not too small. It was almost sexier to him to see the swell of them coming out of her top than it was to see them completely exposed. He longed to touch them, to hold them in his hands, and pinch her nipples until she let out hot little gasps of pleasure. 

“Stand up,” she said, coolly.

He could barely find his footing; his legs did not want to support his weight, so he stumbled, slipping onto his knees. He set his jaw and put all his will into making himself stand up. It took him a good minute, but finally he was on his feet. He wobbled for a moment but then had his balance. He was watching for any sign of recognition, any sense of weakness in her posture; but he saw none. She was fully immersed. This would be more difficult than he’d expected. He could see that she liked being in control; perhaps she liked it even more than he did. He didn’t know whether to feel anxious or aroused. 

His cock decided for him, rising to attention, as they stood not three feet apart, the only sounds being his heavy breathing and the light cluck of her tongue. There was a barely perceptible shift in her expression when she noticed his erection; her cheeks flushed. But she didn’t look down. She held his gaze, and he held hers. They waited. It was like a game of tug-of-war. 

“Well, aren’t you going to thank me?” she said finally. Her voice was soft, caressing him like silk.

“For what…Professor?”

“For letting you down.”

So he bent his head and touched his lips to the top of her left breast. He flicked it with his tongue, enjoying the gasp that came from her throat. Then he moved to her right breast, only this time he bent lower and took her nipple between his lips. She groaned. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, with her breast still in his mouth. 

“Oh fuck.” Then she grabbed him and pulled him down onto the floor, spreading her legs. She directed his head to her breasts, but he had other ideas. He continued down the length of her writhing body to her fiery red cunt. It was dripping wet. He flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue; her hips contracted, and she let out a yelp. He continued to focus his attention between her legs, sliding his tongue in a little deeper. He drank her in, like he was dying of thirst. Her legs closed around his head, and it hurt, but he ignored it. He positioned his hands firmly on either side of her buttocks, and pulled her up. He was so deep inside her now; he could feel her body vibrate as she moaned. 

He brought her to climax with his tongue, then replaced it with his penis and rode her until they both came together. Then he looked down at her, a smile spreading across his lips, which tasted of her.

“No one else can fuck you but me,” he said. “No one.”


	5. Through the Looking Glass...10 years later

Title: Detention: Through The Looking-Glass  
Author: lunalovepotter   
Pairing: H/G  
Rating: NC-17  
Word Count: 2,864  
Summary: It had a very long time since they last played the game.  
Notes: This takes place in the Detention Series universe, ten years later. It isn't necessary to read the series to understand what is happening, although it might be helpful. As always thanks to my beta, the_vixxmeister! 

Ginny ducked into the tavern, shaking the raindrops from her cloak. She'd been surprised at first when he'd chosen this place for their rendezvous although here they were less likely to be interrupted. A small smile of anticipation crossed her face. Her heart fluttered as she approached the bar and took a seat. She felt like a schoolgirl all over again. 

When the barman drifted over, she ordered a light, non-alcoholic drink. When the drink levitated onto the bar, she noticed that there was a piece of parchment tucked underneath. She lifted the glass, removed the parchment, and unfolded it where she found a short note. It was unsigned, but the handwriting was Harry's. 

"I booked us a room. When you're finished with your drink, join me upstairs in number 5. Take your time. We have all night."

All night. Ginny really liked the sound of that. She nursed her drink while she considered the possibilities of what lay ahead. As far as anyone else was concerned, she and Harry were out celebrating their tenth anniversary. This was true, in a sense, although certainly far from the traditional romantic getaway their family assumed they were having. She felt almost reckless deceiving them, but she was really looking forward to this. For one night, she wasn't a wife and mother, or part-time columnist for Quidditch Weekly. She was completely free of all obligations. 

Heat crept slowly through her body. She slowly trailed her finger along the edge of her glass, while her eyes rolled upward. She imagined her husband treading the boards of their rented room, anxiously awaiting her arrival. Harry isn't the only one with the surprise she thought. She shifted her legs, allowing the smooth cloth of the robes to slide against her thighs. The poor bloke would never know what hit him. Harry may have inherited the sharp reflexes and intuition of an Auror, but deep down he was still the same oblivious, loving man she'd married. Ginny couldn't wait to see his face when she shed her robes.

It had been a pleasure unearthing the Hogwarts attire she'd tucked away before they were married; at the time she never expected to use it again, but she wasn't able to part with it completely. The rush of empowerment that came from sliding on the knee socks, little white oxford, and the pleated skirt was almost orgasmic. Fastening the tie at her throat sent the blood pulsing to her crotch; the sensation was so strong she had to quell it with her fingers, stifling her moans as not to alert her mum who was downstairs with James, Al, and baby Lily. But perhaps the most exciting – not to mention vindicating - part of all was that she still fit in the costume, with very few minor magical adjustments which were to be expected after giving birth to three children in quick succession. Memories of the risqué sex games they played flooded back – the ethereal glow of the bottled specimens on the dungeon shelves; the hungry look in Harry's eyes as he teased her to the point of madness; the rain pouring in sheets with the wind thrashing branches against the windows – much as it was tonight, she noted with satisfaction. Funny how that worked out she thought as she toyed with the edge of parchment. 

She discreetly brushed her left hand over her chest. Every nerve ending in her body was on edge, like a live wire waiting to be set off. Her nipples rose to hard peaks, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Slipping off the stool, she took one last pull at her drink before setting down some coins on the bar. Then she gathered the cloak close to her body and walked purposefully to the stairs at the back of the bar. 

She and Harry certainly didn't need to spice up their sex life. After ten years, they were going strong by anyone's standards. While her brother bemoaned Hermione's lack of sex drive after having Rose and Hugo, Ginny had no such concerns. It wasn't as though they were teenagers with all the time in the world to shag, but they managed to squeeze one in every few days and it was still as hot as ever.

At the top of the stairs she made a quick left and passed three doors before she paused at #5. Surprisingly, her throat felt tight and her hands clammy as she rapped on the door. When she heard his voice call her, she wiped her hands on her robes, gathered them close to her again and went inside. Her heart was like a jackhammer, while her bra dug into her chest as though it was squeezing the breath out of her.

"Candelabra Illuminata!"

The room was illuminated by burgundy candles that hovered in clusters of five in each corner. The scent of strawberry was prevalent in the air, which made her smile as she went for the clasp of her robes. "Very nice," she murmured approvingly, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of Harry. For a long moment everything was still but the wind and the rain, and the pulsing in her ears. She was about to call him when he stepped out of the adjoining loo clad entirely in black except for the brilliant emerald eyes that glimmered behind his glasses. 

"Right on time, Miss Weasley," he said, with a faint tone of amusement. 

"Haven't you heard, Professor? I'm married now," she replied. Flicking her wrist she banished the robes and stepped forward into the glow of the candles. Her breasts, larger now from breastfeeding, jiggled enticingly inside the confines of the silk bra, nearly spilling over the top of her oxford. One hand drifted underneath her skirt to brush over her crotch, which she didn't have to touch to know was damp. 

Harry sucked in his breath. She watched the bob of his throat as he swallowed, taking in every inch of her. "Shame, that." 

"It doesn't have to be. What's tonight's lesson about?"

"It's a review session, actually." He gestured toward a carved stone basin on the side table, beside which was one vial of a silvery substance resembling liquid metal. "I thought we both could do with a refresher before we get started. To get us in the mood." 

"Very good idea, Professor." 

"First, come here." Harry held out his hand. She recognized the hungry look in his eyes as their fingers intertwined. When she was close, his other hand cupped her arse, sliding slowly over the well-fitting knickers. She swatted it away with a wink. 

"Still fits," she said. 

"Not surprised," he answered, rolling his tongue along his lower lip. He eyed her breasts with obvious longing as he steered her closer to the bed. "Wait here for a moment please, Ginevra." 

Ginevra. Gods, only he could say her full name and make it sound like a naughty word. Impatient, Ginny waited while he performed the necessary tasks to ready the pensieve. Her restless fingers slipped inside the hem of her knickers and stroked the wiry hair between her legs. She hissed, her hips rolling forward. She thought she caught a hesitation in Harry's movements, but he'd regained himself before she could be sure. So she continued, sliding her first two fingers inside her folds while her thumb flicked across the swollen bundle of nerves at the juncture of her thighs. She began to loosen the tie, which was binding her throat. 

Sweet Merlin, it felt good. If she wanted, she could make herself come right there. 

"Are you sure we need to review right now, Professor?" she breathed, inching closer. She could make out his well-toned arse beneath the drape of his cloak as he leaned over the pensieve. Her mouth watered. "I'm already in the mood." She closed her thighs around her hand, bending forward just enough to brush her breasts along his back. Her other hand slid around his front, cupping the package in his trousers. She rolled it in her fingers. For a long moment she thought she had him, until suddenly he caught her wrist and turned around. Startled, she dropped her hand from her clit, which protested vehemently at the loss of attention. 

"Yes, I'm sure," he said authoritatively, all the playfulness gone. If he realized what she'd been doing behind his back he gave no indication. "Now come here." Guiding her hand he dipped her finger, along with his own, into the silvery fluid. She felt an uncomfortable jerk in her belly, and then they tumbled around for a few seconds until they came to a stop in what looked like a dungeon. Ginny smiled, recognizing it immediately as the site of one of their first meetings as Professor and Student. 

Harry's hands came around her waist, pressing into her stomach. He backed them both against the wall, holding her close so that she could feel his erection along her arse. She found it extremely hard to concentrate with the feelings this elicited but she refused to succumb.

Ginny watched as her the other self walked rigidly into the room, dressed in the same uniform she was wearing now with her schoolbooks hugged to her chest. She could see the discomfort on the other Ginny's face, and she squirmed a little in empathy. Behind her, Harry's breath was hot on her neck. His hands tightened around her. He was already getting excited. 

His other self emerged from the dark corner, chastising her for being late. The other Ginny tried to explain but he only berated her more. She lowered her head, hair falling around her face as she took her punishment – thirty extra minutes of detention. Meanwhile real Ginny's nipples hardened inside her bra as she watched. 

At the other Harry's command, the other Ginny set her books down on the floor. Other Ginny fidgeted with her hands while determinedly not staring into his eyes. He stepped forward with his wand extended, stopping right in front of her. Ginny watched, her body trembling, as Other Harry traced his wand slowly down other Ginny's left side, and then her right side. Then Ginny noticed that her Harry was also stroking her sides, running his hands up and down in time with Other Harry's wand. Only now his hands came across her chest, cupping her breasts. He rolled them in his fingers while they watched Other Ginny disrobe – first her robe, then stockings, and her shoes. She pulled the barrettes from her hair and placed them in the cavity of her shoe. 

"You have beautiful hair, Ginevra," The other Harry said. He placed his hand in her hair, allowing it to sift through his fingers. Real Harry murmured his agreement as he continued to fondle her breasts through her shirt. His mouth came close to her head, ghosting along her hair. 

"Strawberry," he whispered at the same time as the other Harry. Ginny's crotch throbbed. She reached up and unfastened the remaining buttons on the oxford, sighing as they were released. Her breasts were huge inside the bra. The tie dangled freely in front of her. 

Then the other Ginny removed her sweater and tie. Her shirt and knickers followed this. She stood before the other Harry in nothing but her bra and pleated skirt. Just as they were now, the other Ginny's nipples were hard peaks poking through the silk. 

Ginny's crotch was wet as she watched the other Harry perform the Candelabra Illuminata charm, lighting the room with clusters of candles encased in glass globes. Then he directed the other Ginny to face the wall with her legs spread. 

"Tell me you want it," said the other Harry as other Ginny braced her hands on the dungeon wall and parted her legs. The skirt flipped lightly against the back of her thighs. 

"I want it, Mr. Potter." 

The other Harry removed his robes. They fell to the floor at his feet in a rustle of silk. "What do you want, Ginevra?" 

"I want to be fucked. I want to be fucked hard." 

"Good. Because I am going to fuck you like you've never been before." The other Harry smiled, but only slightly. He told her to lift her skirt. 

The other Ginny complied, folding the skirt up over her waist. Watching, Ginny groaned with Harry's erection nestled into the curve of her arse. One hand pulled away the cup of her bra, exposing her right breast. He pinched her nipple and she yelped, grinding her hips back against him, while they watched the other Harry fuck the other Ginny from behind with his wand, probing her arse with slow and deliberate movements.

"Do you like the way that feels?" Other Harry asked. 

"Yes," both Ginnys sighed. 

"Do you like being fucked from behind?" 

Real Harry groaned behind her, tightening his hold on her breast. Ginny's crotch was unbearably wet, her knickers sticking to her skin. 

"Yes," both Ginnys responded. 

"I didn't hear you."

"YES!" The other Ginny screamed. Real Ginny craned her head over her shoulder. "Fuck me now. I want it now." She nicked Harry's earlobe with her teeth, and he hissed, reflexively grabbing her inner thighs.

"Phalangus Lubricante!" 

The knickers came off and the skirt was shoved up. Then she felt the exquisite sensation of Harry's fingers swirling inside her arse, timed perfectly to the actions of the other Harry who had traded the wand for his fingers. While other Ginny was being fucked against the dungeon wall, real Ginny imitated her. She didn't even have to watch to remember how to move her body. Only now she pushed Harry back against the wall, arching her hips to bury his fingers farther inside her. 

"Do it for real," she hissed. "Take out your bloody cock and fuck me, Harry. I want to feel you inside me." 

"Soon," he answered, although his voice wavered. His erection rubbed her through the fabric of his trousers. 

The Other Harry had relieved other Ginny of the right half of her bra and was working her breast with one hand, pinching and rolling her nipple while the other released the zipper on his trousers. The moans of her other self sent heat rippling through Ginny's body, increasing her desire. Meanwhile behind her she felt her Harry move, shifting his weight. Knowing what this meant, she took a half-step forward and bent down to thrust her arse eagerly into his face. 

"Now!" she whined, while she played with her throbbing clit. Her fingers were slick with her own juices. 

"Soon," Harry moaned, even less certain than before. 

Ginny watched through her hair while the other Harry entered the other Ginny, sending her into spasms of pleasure. His hand cupped her waist, lifting her up and back while he buried himself inside. He continued to thrust into her at a rapid pace. The other Ginny's right breast swung madly while she played with her clit, screaming for him to keep going. Her other hand braced against the wall. The other Harry came with a bellow, nearly tearing the rest of the bra off the other Ginny's chest. He kneaded her breasts as he came down from his climax while he buried his lips in her neck.

"Harry..." Ginny wailed to the Harry behind her. 

This time he didn't wait. Ginny felt him pry open her folds, and then she heard a keening sound as his cock sought entrance; it took her a moment to realize that she was the one making the noise. He slid into her easily, their bodies slapping together as he thrust forward and she thrust back into him. She continued to play with her clit, timing her finger to the sensation of his movement. Finally he moved her hand away, continuing to stroke her with his thumb. 

"Bloody hell, this feels brilliant!" Her lips broke into a smile, and strands of hair fell into her mouth. She released her other breast. She loved the way they felt swinging freely as Harry fucked her with his well-honed precision. She watched her own nipples roll back and forth, and then around in circles. It was hypnotic. 

"Oh fuck yesss...." Harry breathed, exhaling hotly on her throat. They completely lost sight of what the other Harry and Ginny were doing as they continued at their own pace. Harry abruptly yanked her up. He stilled for an instant before he exploded inside her. He applied and withdrew pressure to her clit with his thumb, coaxing her along until she wailed for him to let her go. When he did, she came with colors exploding behind her eyes. 

Even though the memory wasn't over, Harry picked up their discarded clothes and pulled them out. Seconds later they were back in the hotel room. They fell onto the bed, where Ginny curled into Harry's arms, spooning her body into him. He stroked her back. With her ear against his chest, she listened to the steady pounding of his heart.

"Let's not wait another ten years to do that again," Harry murmured. "Happy Anniversary, love." 

"Happy Anniversary," Ginny echoed, lifting her head to kiss him.


End file.
